Physically and emotionally scarred, he leaned against the old gnarled tree. The salty Mediterranean air stung his wounds as it whipped sharply along the terrain. As his weary eyes wandered sluggishly along the horizon, he sighed and let his blood spattered sword drop to the ground.
What had he accomplished? He wondered. He had fought so stridently, and in the end it left him in a query.
“Have I done the right thing? Will my efforts make a change?”
The warrior would never know. Not but a second after that single thought troubled his mind, the blade of an adversary took his life.
In his last moment, he offered a weak smile; the world’s trouble was no longer his concern.
– Awkward Babble 2013